


My Head's Under Water (but I'm Breathing Fine)

by uena



Series: The Road to Hell (is Paved With Good Intentions) [10]
Category: The Tomorrow People (2013)
Genre: Dirty Bad Wrong, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Romance, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 10:47:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uena/pseuds/uena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jedikiah takes John home, and they spend the night together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Head's Under Water (but I'm Breathing Fine)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hope_calaris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope_calaris/gifts).



> Behold me "speeding things up". This is getting ridiculous. Also, this exercise in Studying the Twisted is beginning to gnaw at my mental health. Next I'll be having Jedikiah waxing poetic about John's golden hair gleaming in the morning sun. Unacceptable.

Jedikiah’s house is very different from what John expected. The fence separating it from the sidewalk needs a new layer of paint, and the garden out front is unkempt, overrun by weeds. There is a molehill in the middle of the lawn.

Judging from Jedikiah’s suits and the way he carries himself John had expected the house to be immaculately kept, a showpiece, not the only property on the block that does not fit in with the rest.

“Why do you look like my house somehow offended you? What’s going on here?” Jedikiah doesn’t sound particularly concerned, and John turns his head to the left and looks at him, doesn’t even try to hide his smile for once.

“You’re not often here, are you?”

They are standing side by side on the curb, the taxi that brought them here has just left, and he feels warm and safe, is full of Mexican food that was better than anything he’s ever eaten before.

“I am here every single night,” Jedikiah contradicts him, and then tilts his head, narrows his eyes a little. “Well, almost.” He looks around, fixes his gaze on the molehill. “I just don’t like gardening, I suppose. Come inside, it gets better, I promise. I have a cleaning lady, I think she was here yesterday.”

He reaches out and for John’s wrist, tugs him along, and John lets him, follows him down the path to the house and inside.

Jedikiah is right. The inside of the house is much better than you’d expect from the exterior view. It’s late in the day, so everything’s masked by deep shadows when they enter, but once Jedikiah turns on the lights, John doesn’t find fault with anything he sees.

It’s … it’s a home. He loves it.

Jedikiah takes him into the living room, turns on another set of lights, and gestures towards the sofa. “Sit. I’ll get us something to drink. Would you like anything special?”

John just stares at him, slightly overwhelmed. “I … used to like apple juice, I think.”

Jedikiah stares back, blinks. “Okay,” he says then. “Apple juice. I’ll see what I can do.”

With that he leaves the room, and John decides that this is the perfect opportunity to sit himself down and think about his choices.

Was it a good idea to go home with Jedikiah? The suggestion itself had him blush to the roots of his hair, but Jedikiah hastened to assure him that all he was offering was one night outside of headquarters, one night not spent in a room where the furniture is bolted to the floor.

“I did promise you more kisses, though, if I remember correctly,” Jedikiah had added, only giving John more reason to blush, “and I am fully prepared to execute that promise to the best of my ability.”

The carpet below John’s feet is dark and plush, and he stares at it, leans forward on the sofa, his elbows on his knees.

The neighbourhood is quiet, and he can hear Jedikiah moving around in the kitchen, hears him opening the fridge, the distinctive sound of ice cubes clinking against glass.

It’s domestic, and strange, and all John has ever wanted.

He closes his eyes. Tries to drown out the noise of his own thoughts.

“You look as if you’re about to bolt.”

John jerks into a straight sitting position, and tears his eyes open to see Jedikiah standing in the door to the living room. He’s holding two glasses with amber liquid in them, and gesticulates with his right hand in John’s direction. “I found apple juice.”

John is off the couch in a heartbeat – and then he stops in his tracks. He doesn’t know why he got up, what he was trying to do. “Thank you,” he says, so unsure of himself it makes him feel a little bit sick.

He doesn’t belong here, in this house. He’s nothing but a trespasser.

Jedikiah says nothing in return. He steps into the room and towards the sofa, places both glasses on the coffee table, then he turns around to face John, looks at him. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I – no,” John stammers, stumbling over his own words, “you didn’t!”

“Please sit back down,” Jedikiah says, and John just folds himself back onto the sofa, an automatic response to the softly spoken request. 

Jedikiah sits down right next to him, and John stares back at the carpet at his feet. He hears Jedikiah sigh. “Would you rather I take you back to headquarters? You seem uncomfortable.”

John’s eyes snap up to Jedikiah’s, and he can’t lie. “I am.”

Jedikiah appears to be unshaken by the admission. “Why?”

“This is your house,” John whispers, “your home. I don’t –“

“You don’t want to be here?” Jedikiah interrupts him gently. “Is that it?”

“No!” John takes a deep breath. “I love it here! It’s just –“

He doesn’t know how to go on, so he stops.

“It’s somewhere new,” Jedikiah finishes for him. “It’s not what you’re used to. The rooms are not cubicle sized, nor does the interior design remind you of a Russian prison. But if you don’t like it, so help me, I will bring you back to your room at headquarters immediately.”

“I don’t belong here.” It takes a few seconds for John to realize that he actually said that out loud. And when he does, he stares at Jedikiah like a deer at the headlights of an approaching truck.

Jedikiah looks back at him quietly, doesn’t say anything for a few endless seconds, then he carefully puts his right hand on John’s left knee. “Only if you don’t want to, John.”

The gesture is intimate and caressing, and John feels his body responding to it, feels drawn in as if by a magnetic force.

“I’m thirsty,” he croaks, before he can say anything else, before he can tell Jedikiah how much he wants to be kissed right now.

“And your thirst shall be quenched,” Jedikiah declares, gets one of the glasses off the table, sniffs at it, and hands it over to John. “Mine has bourbon in it,” he explains the sniffing, then reaches for the second glass, gently clinks it against John’s. “To your good health.”

John takes a sip of his juice to make talking unnecessary, and allows his gaze to flit around the room. The furniture is mostly made of dark wood and looks expensive, and although the room does not have any embellishments in the form of private picture frames or even original art, it looks cosy.

The sofa he’s sitting on is dark brown leather, soft and squishy beneath him, and he slowly leans backwards, lets himself relax into it.

“Much better,” Jedikiah comments, squeezes his knee before releasing it, and John almost whimpers. His body is always responsive to physical touch after he’s taken the drugs, he’s learned to accept that fact and expect it.

But this is something else.

Their surroundings are so different from the usual, the house so quiet, the atmosphere almost … intimate.

“Sir,” he starts, and then pauses when he sees the look on Jedikiah’s face.

“You really need to call me Jed when we’re not at work, John.”

John bites his lip.

“There were kisses, John, you have to call me by my first name.”

The smile is audible in Jedikiah’s voice, and John puts his glass back on the table and leans to the left and into Jedikiah. He thinks he’s allowed to do that. There were kisses, after all. “Okay, Jed.”

“Very good,” Jedikiah murmurs, gets rid of his own glass and drapes his arm over John’s shoulders. “You’ve always been a fast learner.”

They turn towards each other simultaneously, and although John expects the kiss this time, that doesn’t make it any less electrifying when it happens. He reaches for Jedikiah’s shoulder to steady himself, grips the soft fabric of his shirt tightly in his fingers.

“Hey,” Jedikiah mumbles against his lips, and then his hand covers John’s, “don’t wrinkle me.”

John almost snorts in amusement. “Sorry.”

“This is an expensive shirt, John,” Jedikiah admonishes him in a softly mocking voice. “I’d rather take it off before I let you wrinkle it.”

John freezes for a heartbeat, hesitates, licks his lips. “Okay,” he croaks, and closes his eyes in mortification when his voice breaks in the middle of the word.

“Okay he says,” Jedikiah murmurs, and then he withdraws, loosens his tie under John’s disbelieving stare. “What?” he demands, while he’s slowly drawing it open, pops the topmost button of his shirt, “I thought I had your permission?”

John stares at where Jedikiah’s shirt collar stands open to reveal the little dip at the bottom of his throat. He wants to reach out and touch it – so he does.

Jedikiah holds still and lets out a little sigh. “Very good. I was beginning to wonder how to tell you that you’re allowed to touch.”

John glances up at him from below his lashes. “I am?”

Jedikiah tilts his head. “Of course you are. What kind of relationship do you think this is?”

“I have no idea, to be honest.” John dry-swallows, and looks back to where his fingertips are caressing Jedikiah’s neck. He brushes the shirt collar to the side, lets his fingers travel lower and over naked skin, until they encounter the first button.

“Go on,” Jedikiah prompts, so John does. He pries the button open, and then the next one, and then the next, until they are all undone, and Jedikiah’s tie is framing the resulting gap, hanging open across his chest.

John is half hard in his jeans, and the way Jedikiah is looking at him, his eyes dark and patient, does absolutely nothing to negate that. It doesn’t even matter that Jedikiah’s still wearing an undershirt.

John pushes his hands into the inviting opening, under the shoulders of Jedikiah’s shirt, lets his thumbs drag over the naked skin he finds there.

“God, John,” he hears Jedikiah murmur. Then he’s leaning forward and pressing his lips to John’s, and John pushes the shirt off his shoulders, down Jedikiah’s back. It doesn’t go as far as he would like, so he moves closer to Jedikiah, but their knees are in the way, and the kissing pretty much eliminates the little coordination he has, but he tries anyway.

“Jesus, just, come here …” John has never heard Jedikiah sound so ruffled, but he lets himself be guided by the hands on his hips, moves around until he’s straddling Jedikiah’s lap, his knees sinking into the sofa’s soft leather.

“Better,” Jedikiah decides in-between kisses, sounding breathless and pleased. His arms come up behind John’s back, pull him in closer, and John has never been this comfortable, warm, safe, and happy.

Their kisses are soft, quiet and unhurried, and although John can’t deny the incessant buzzing below his skin, he doesn’t feel the need to rush. He keeps his hands on Jedikiah’s shoulders, tries to get used to the warm, solid presence below him, tries not to rut forward and against it.

Jedikiah tastes of the bourbon he drank, of the Mexican food they had for dinner, and the simple fact that John _knows_ that, that he can identify these flavours because he was there, has spent his whole day with Jedikiah, makes him feel a little bit weak.

His day was perfect, even with the pain he had to endure, and the simple truth is that it wouldn’t have been without Jedikiah.

John squeezes his eyes shut until he sees stars behind his lids, and he wishes he could be closer to Jedikiah, much, much closer than this. His breath hitches, and his fingertips begin to tremble, and he can’t stop his hips from snapping forward, once. Only once.

The involuntary loss of control has him gasp in a mixture of surprise and embarrassment, and he freezes.

Jedikiah pauses their kiss. “John?”

“Sorry,” John whispers, “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“… Didn’t mean to do what? Move? You can move. I’m not made of glass, you know.”

John keeps his eyes closed, draws in a deep breath. “Yeah. I know. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to keep this …”

“If you say ‘innocent’, I will set my tie on fire.”

John actually snorts this time, and he opens his eyes to look at Jedikiah. “I wanted it to … last longer, I guess.”

Jedikiah smiles at him. “You are a very unusual young man. And if you are so dead set on coming in your pants again, I am prepared to let you do that.”

John doesn’t know if he should be mortified or amused, and he’s dealt out a slap to Jedikiah’s shoulder before he’s properly decided. “Jed!”

For a few seconds, Jedikiah practically _beams_ at him, then his expression turns frighteningly serious. “John … I am aware that the power balance between us is not what it should be. So I want you to know, that ... whatever happens between us is entirely your choice. You call all the shots, the veto-power is all yours, okay?”

John nods, feeling a bit dizzy from this sudden declaration. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Jedikiah mimics his nod, and his serious expression softens a little. “So. Do you want to sleep on the couch tonight, or -?”

John refuses to blush, keeps his face carefully blank. “Or what? The floor?”

Jedikiah stares at him, aghast. “You think I would let you sleep on the floor?”

“No,” John admits, allows the shy smile to stretch his lips. “That was a joke. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Jedikiah echoes, looking unimpressed. “With you, one never knows. And you didn’t answer my question.”

John looks at Jedikiah, takes in his rumpled shirt, shoved off his shoulders but still covering his arms, bunching over his bicep, and he feels bold, all of a sudden. “How could I when you broke it off mid sentence?”

Jedikiah huffs in amusement, puts his hands on John’s cheeks, stretches up to him and presses a kiss to his lips. “Okay, full disclosure: What I was offering was my company, tonight, in my bed – or, if you prefer, this sofa to sleep on, alone. That’s it, those are your options. I simply refuse to let you sleep on the floor, no matter how much you want to.”

John closes his eyes, tries to think. But he can feel Jedikiah’s breath on his face, he’s still half hard in his jeans, and he … he just _wants_.

“The bed,” he says, his voice unsteady, rough, “I want the bed.”

“I won’t pretend that this isn’t the answer I was hoping for,” is what Jedikiah has to say in return, and his thumbs brush across John’s cheekbones. “May I make you come in your pants now?”

John actually nods, gasps out a breathless “Yeah,” before he surges forward and kisses Jedikiah, moans into his mouth and pushes his hips forward. He feels Jedikiah chuckle into the kiss, but then he licks into Johns mouth, takes his right hand off John’s face and places it on his hip instead. “Or,” he says between kisses, “I could take you to bed. Spare your pants. Get you naked for once.”

The words alone almost do it for John. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he rambles, feeling dizzy with want, with the idea of being naked with Jedikiah, “naked is good.”

“Indeed,” Jedikiah agrees, his voice deeper than usual, with an edge to it that makes John shiver. “Come on then.”

He helps John get off his lap, guides him through the living room with a hand on his elbow, and then down the floor to the bedroom. Contrary to what he expected, John does not feel overly nervous, he doesn’t have trouble breathing. He is actually a little bit calmer once they reach the room and step inside.

Jedikiah turns on the lights and closes the door behind them, then steps in front of John. “May I undress you?”

John allows it with a nod, not trusting himself to speak. He lifts his arms, so Jedikiah can remove his t-shirt, bites his lip when he unbuttons his jeans. His pulse rate spikes alarmingly once Jedikiah goes to his knees in front of him to pull down the zipper.

“I’m going too fast, aren’t I?” Jedikiah asks then, looking up at him with his head tipped back, his arms hanging by his side. He looks utterly relaxed, and John desperately wishes he could, too.

“Okay, how about this …” Jedikiah opens the cuffs on his shirt, drags it first off his left arm, and then off his right, lets it fall to the floor in an ungainly heap. The undershirt is coming off next, in one smooth, practised movement, joins its comrade on the floor. “Now, we’re even.”

John takes a deep breath. Jedikiah is on his knees in front of him, is hair is rumpled, and he’s half naked. This is too much to process all at once. He is painfully hard inside his jeans, he can taste his own heartbeat in his throat, and he doesn’t know what he will do once Jedikiah pulls down his jeans.

“Still too fast?” Jedikiah asks him, and his eyes look like black ink below the bedroom lights. “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” John rushes to assure him, because that’s pretty much the only thing he’s certain about. “I don’t want to stop.”

“But I’m laying it on too thick, is that it? The whole undressing each other thing? Or do you take exception to the freckles on my shoulders, because let me tell you, John, that would be _mean_.”

The sound of his own laughter startles John out of his overwhelmed nervousness, and he puts his hand on Jedikiah’s left shoulder, touches the warm skin, nudges him. “I actually really like them. But please get up. You … I …”

“Ah,” Jedikiah says, and stands up, “it’s the visual of me on my knees that has you all -”

“Please stop talking,” John rushes out, trying to hide his face behind his hands.

A second later, he’s in Jedikiah’s arms, being hugged. “You will be the death of me.”

Jedikiah’s voice is so low that John almost doesn’t hear it, but it helps him to relax. He takes his hands down, shyly returns the hug. “Will I?”

“Undoubtedly,” Jedikiah claims. “… Do you still want to get naked?”

John does, so they do – rather fast and efficient, and then Jedikiah drags him into bed. “Above or below the covers?”

John glares at him. “I think I would actually be more comfortable if I didn’t have to decide everything.”

Jedikiah grins at him. “Bossy about not wanting to be bossy. I like that. Okay, come here.”

With that he lies down on his back, and pulls John on top of him. The skin on skin contact feels amazing, and John is unable to hold back the tiny whimper escaping his throat.

“Good?” Jedikiah asks him. John just groans.

“Well, that could mean anything,” Jedikiah complains teasingly, lets his hands explore Johns naked back. “You need to be more vocal about this.”

John playfully bites his shoulder in retaliation – Jedikiah shudders beneath him. “Or that,” he says, his voice suddenly thick with arousal. “You could do that.”

It would take more restraint than John could ever work up to stop himself from moving now. So he doesn’t even try.

Jedikiah doesn’t complain about John essentially rubbing one off against him. He grabs John’s ass with both hands, helps things along by pushing up every time John’s pushing down.

It’s slow, and tortuous, and the best thing that’s ever happened to John. He feels hot, almost feverish, seems to be unable to close his mouth, to stop the constant flow of “Yeah, yes, please,” intertwined with moans.

His orgasm hits him like a wave, drags him over and under, and he muffles his helpless groan against Jedikiah’s shoulder. It might take him half an hour to come back down from his high – maybe five minutes. He’s fuzzy on that.

When he does, he notices the obvious pressure against his hip, and drags his head up to look Jedikiah in the eyes. “You didn’t?”

“I’m not that young anymore,” Jedikiah grins, gently nudges John off of him. “But that’s hardly a problem.”

John smiles goofily up at him. “That’s a terrible pun.”

Jedikiah chuckles, and nods. “Also completely accidental, I swear.”

John watches from drooping lids how Jedikiah takes himself in hand. He remembers the taste of him and licks his lips, thinks about doing it again, until the end this time, until Jedikiah comes into his mouth.

His dick twitches at the thought, but it’s too soon for him to get hard again. He watches for a few strokes more, up and down, zeroes in on the leaking tip of Jedikiah’s cock. He bites the inside of his lip and still can’t stop his hips from bucking forward.

“I would tell you that staring is impolite,” Jedikiah murmurs then, and the gravel in his voice has John take in a hasty breath, “but I must say that in this instance it quite … hah … strokes my ego.”

John has no trouble imagining the smug look on his face, and he turns his head to nib at Jedikiah’s shoulder, wants to know if he can get him to –

“ _John_!” Jedikiah’s response is immediate, a helpless groan that has John’s dick twitching again, and he has to take a deep breath to calm his racing pulse.

His first instinct is to say that he’s sorry, when he really, really isn’t. So he holds the words in, and looks back down Jedikiah’s body instead.

“Can I – I want to …” He trails of when he notices his come on Jedikiah’s belly, pooling into the hollow of his hip. He sits up, moves around, leans forward and over Jedikiah’s lap, notices absentmindedly that Jedikiah’s hand stops moving, then he takes the head of his cock into his mouth.

“John …” Jedikiah sounds different this time, less urgent, utterly satisfied, and John opens his mouth wider, licks over the tip of Jedikiah’s thumb, then he closes his lips around the crown of his cock and starts sucking.

Jedikiah’s hips buck up, a tiny movement, mostly controlled – but even the suggestion that he made Jedikiah lose his cool has John’s eyes roll back into his head.

“Gently,” he hears Jedikiah groan, “have mercy on me, John.”

John hums his agreement and closes his eyes, concentrates on relaxing his throat. He notices Jedikiah taking his hand away so he has room to move, so he does, goes deeper inch by inch.

“Careful now,” Jedikiah murmurs, and his fingers brush through John’s hair. “Pace yourself.”

John hums again, and Jedikiah curses, softly but with a passion that sends a wave of heat down John’s spine.

He works his head up and down, minds his teeth, uses his tongue and his hands, and Jedikiah’s fingers remain in his hair, gentle and uncontrolling. He hears Jedikiah breathing hard above him, hears the occasional hitch and every groan.

So he notices when the groans become more frequent, when the fingers in his hair start to twitch.

“You might want to let up now,” Jedikiah manages, sounding wrecked, and he gently tugs on John’s hair.

John just sucks harder, goes down on Jedikiah as far as he can manage.

Jedikiah curses again, not at all softly this time, and his hips come off the bed when he reaches his climax, floods John’s mouth with his release.

It’s overwhelming and sudden, despite the warning he got, and John chokes a little, trying to swallow everything. He feels Jedikiah’s come run down his chin and squeezes his eyes shut, comes up slowly, breathing carefully through his nose.

He licks his lips once he’s released Jedikiah’s cock, wipes the come off his chin with the back of his left hand.

Above him, Jedikiah lets out a somewhat unsteady breath. “God help me.”

John instinctively looks at his face, and the expression he’s rewarded with has him blush. “Was that okay?”

Jedikiah huffs and closes his eyes. “ _Okay_ is not the word I would use for what you just did to me. Come here, I want to kiss you.”

John rubs his chin, very aware of the drying come on the back of his hand. “Are you sure?”

“Very much so, yes,” Jedikiah affirms. “If you don’t mind.”

Being kissed by Jedikiah is one thing John will never mind, ever, so he turns until he can lie back down next to him, watches Jedikiah roll on his side.

“That was really rather brilliant, John,” Jedikiah tells him, his voice low and sincere, “and I would consider thanking you for it, if doing that wouldn’t be alarmingly weird.”

John feels the left corner of his mouth lifting up. “You’re welcome, nevertheless.”

“Oh, shut up,” Jedikiah grumbles while pulling John in, and kisses him. It’s a soft kiss, almost innocent, if not for the insistence with which Jedikiah explores almost every inch of John’s mouth with his tongue.

When he stops and they separate, Jedikiah looks at John for a few seconds, his gaze thoughtful. “Does being here still make you uncomfortable?”

John snuggles up closer to him, the lingering high from his orgasm making him bold. “It’s very difficult to feel uncomfortable when you’re being so nice.”

Jedikiah stays silent for a minute, then puts his arm around John. “I am not a nice man, John. Don’t fool yourself into thinking that.”

“Mhhm,” is all John manages in return, his exhaustion catching up with him.

“Don’t fall asleep on me like this,” he hears Jedikiah murmur. “We need to clean up first.”

That doesn’t drag a reaction out of John, and he hears Jedikiah huff. “Okay. But only this once. Because I am such a _nice_ guy.”

With that he releases John from his embrace and leaves the bed. He’s back just before John is getting cold, cleaning him up with a wet washcloth, then rubbing him dry with a warm towel.

John rolls onto his back and sighs in pleasure, looks up at Jedikiah from below his lashes, smiles at him sleepily. He doesn’t understand the “Weapons of mass destruction” comment, but he’s too exhausted to ask.

He lets Jedikiah manoeuvre him below the covers and hesitates for all of two seconds before creeping closer and rolling half on top of him. Jedikiah doesn’t comment on his behaviour, so John decides that it’s ok, pillows his head on Jedikiah’s shoulder, murmurs a tired Goodnight to him.

“Good night, John,” Jedikiah replies, gently stroking John’s back. “See you in the morning.”


End file.
